


Good Land

by sad_bi_cowboy



Series: ST Bingo 2020 [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Farm in Iowa, Horses, Jim Kirk is a Horse Girl, M/M, Retirement, Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020, old married spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26236984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sad_bi_cowboy/pseuds/sad_bi_cowboy
Summary: Just an afternoon with Jim, Spock, and Jim's seven horse kids.Written to fill the "Homeworld/Homecoming" square on my Bingo card.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: ST Bingo 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905787
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31
Collections: Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020





	Good Land

**Author's Note:**

> Jim Kirk is horse girl so this fic is all I've ever wanted to write, ever.

His bondmate puzzled Spock sometimes. Even after so many years of marriage, he somehow managed to occasionally pick up a habit or reveal an idiosyncrasy that caught Spock off guard. The most recent one was this: James T. Kirk, a lifelong hater of mornings despite being a starship captain and later a professor, happily got out of bed at dawn each morning, marched across their driveway to their barn, and fed the seven horses that he had quickly acquired after they moved into the old Iowa farmhouse. 

“Spock, you know how finicky horses are. If I don’t get to them at the same time every day, they’ll start screaming for me and try to break the damn barn down,” Jim had said to him when he inquired about this.

“Jim, they will not starve if you are late with their feed. They eat hay all night, surely they would last a few more hours.” 

“I also get a chance to get a start to the day! I do have chores to do, and then after they eat I have to exercise them as well.” 

“I have never heard you so eager to wake up early to do any sort of task that does not involve intercourse.” Spock had said, to which Jim responded with an exaggerated gasp of indignation. “What makes the horses different?”

Jim had shrugged. 

“I don’t know, they just are.”

And so Spock remained puzzled about Jim. It wasn’t the case that he resented the routine or the change in any way, just that it was another curiosity to add to his daily musings. 

In all honesty, Spock rather enjoyed the horses. Once he had gotten to know their individual personalities, they were quite pleasant creatures to be around and interact with. He didn’t often ride, of course (the experience on Nimbus III had been thoroughly uncomfortable), but he assisted Jim with stable chores and their general maintenance. Jim, however, rode at least two of them a day and had taken Spock out for just a walk around their property a few times, so he was at least marginally familiar with the process of “tacking up,” as Jim called it. 

They had a stallion, three geldings, two mares, and a filly (Jim had insisted that he stop calling them “males” and “females”}. The filly had been a surprise: it turned out that the mare Jim had gotten at an auction was pregnant, and they had come out to the barn months later to a fluffy, spindly-legged little foal stumbling around next to her mother. Jim had proceeded to nearly have a heart attack, before calling the veterinarian in a panic. As Spock had predicted, the baby was full term and in perfect health, ruling out Jim’s stallion as the potential father. The dun foal, whom Jim had christened Mercury - Curie - after the Roman trickster god, was now six months old and a perfect mirror of her mother, Mazhivik - Vulcan for “sandy.”

“ _T’hy’la_?” 

Spock turned around from where he stood at the fence watching Curie torment one of her field mates, a young gelding named Skywalker, to see Jim walking up to him, leading his black and white stallion Domino. They halted in front of him, Domino taking the opportunity to lip at Spock’s pants to search for a hidden reward. 

“Domino, stop,” Jim scolded him, giving a small tug on the reins. “Spock, darling, the love of my life, the only one for me, half of my soul, could you do me a favor?”

“Yes, Jim,” he replied, suppressing a sigh with great difficulty and appeasing Domino with a pet on the nose. “What is it?”

A huge, happy grin split Jim’s face

“Gods do I love you. Can you catch Cassini for me, put her inside, and get her stuff out? I need to give him a hose down.” He scratched Domino behind his left ear, causing the stallion to wiggle his lips in delight. “He had more energy than I bargained for, and I won’t have time to finish with them both before we have to leave for that talk tonight.”

The talk in question was a special session on being a command team at Starfleet Academy for fourth-year cadets. Even though they were retired, they still occasionally agreed to be put on parade at the Academy as a sort-of-celebrity encounter for young cadets.

“Of course Jim. Do you need anything else after I am done before I go prepare?” 

“Oh no, honey, that’s all! Thank you so much.” He held out his gloved fingers for the _ozh’esta_ , which Spock reciprocated, and then started walking towards the barn, Domino plodding along after him. Spock headed in the opposite direction, towards the field that Cassini shared with one of the other geldings, Jamison. 

Cassini was Jim’s pride and joy - not that he would ever admit to having favorites. About four years after they had returned to Earth to teach at the Academy, Jim had tracked down a breeding operation that he had known as a teenager and arranged to select a yearling from that year’s crop. He had taken Spock with him when he went to make his final decision, and he had ended up picking out the solid black horse with the white face and blue eyes. Every other morning for four years, barring time spent in space on training voyages or diplomatic transportation, Jim had transported to a ranch outside of San Francisco to help raise and train her. As far as Spock could tell, being inexperienced with the equine world, he had done an extremely thorough job with it. Not only was Cassini a quiet, easy horse to work with, she was also a winning barrel racer (a thoroughly illogical sort of activity in Spock’s opinion). Their fireplace mantel was lined with trophies, ribbons, and, in yet another human oddity, belt buckles. 

When Spock had asked Jim about this, Jim had shrugged.

“It’s tradition, Spock. They’ve been giving belt buckles as prizes for hundreds of years. It’s just the way it is.”

Getting to the field gate, Spock called Cassini’s name and watched as she cantered towards him, Jamison following behind her. He unlatched the gate and let them out to walk towards the barn, using the command _Go home_ to make sure they went inside. Sure enough, when he followed behind them, they both stood at their stalls patiently waiting to be let in.

Spock made sure that all of Cassini’s gear was gathered together and put outside her stall before he threw hay into Jamison’s stall and headed back to the house to prepare for the talk. Jim passed him with Domino on his way, caught his arm, and planted a kiss square on his mouth. 

~~~~~~

“No ma’am!” Jim said to Cassini, smacking her on the nose as she made a grab for his leg. She gave him the Mare Stare, but decided to not push the envelope anymore and went back to standing perfectly still. Jim continued cinching the saddle, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye. For all the work he did with her, Cassini could still be an asshole when the mood struck her. But, she was dead broke, and an absolute saint when he put Spock on her for the rare occasions when he convinced him to come out on the trails with him and Domino. 

He slipped the bridle on over her head and led her to the mounting block (he was getting older, after all). He had decided to just do some mild conditioning in the arena and then run a few sprints with her on the makeshift track he had made when he and Spock had moved to the property. 

Cassini was perfect, as usual. Her favorite activity, next to her barrel courses, was running sprints, so he usually just sat back and let her open up. By the time they ended up back at the barn, they were both sweaty and tired, and Jim was running short on time before he and Spock had to leave. 

After cooling Cassini down and completing the rest of the chores in almost record time, Jim trudged back towards the house. He left his boots on the mat by the front door and went to find Spock in the living room, looking over the notes that they had compiled to base their talk around. 

“Have you eaten?” Jim asked him. Spock shook his head. 

“No. I wanted to wait and see what you had in mind for dinner.” 

“I wasn’t thinking about anything specific but we do still have some of that soup from the other night. I can warm it up, after I take a shower of course. I feel disgusting.” A hum in the bond meant that Spock agreed with him, so Jim went to check their refrigerator to make sure there would be enough for both of them before he went upstairs.

Spock joined him about halfway through the shower, much to his delight. 

“This is unexpected,” he drawled, arching back into him. Spock didn’t respond. He just purred and pulled him closer.

Fortunately, they did make it to their talk that night with time to spare.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Was this an excuse to write Rancher!Spock? Maybe. Was it also an excuse to talk about horses for a good 6 paragraphs? Definitely. Also Jim is a Star Wars nerd this is just a fact.
> 
> If you've been around horses, you know that Jim smacking Cassini on the nose did not hurt her in any way, he just needed to make sure she got the message that she was being rude. The "Mare Stare" is a documented phenomena that I am very familiar with. I HIGHLY recommend looking up videos of professional barrel racing if you want an idea of what Jim and Cassini do. It is extremely entertaining to watch, and you can tell the horses love their jobs.
> 
> Horse Terms:  
> Gelding: a castrated male horse  
> Stallion: an intact male horse  
> Mare: a female horse over 3 or 4 years old (definition can vary based on breed registries and competition)  
> Filly: a female horse under 3 or 4 years old  
> Yearling: a horse that is a year old  
> Tacking Up: putting the saddle, bridle, etc. on the horse  
> "Dead Broke": an extremely well trained horse. Often used to describe "bomb proof" horses under saddle.
> 
> Full list of Horses:  
> Mazhivik (Maz): dun, cow horse type mare. Since Jim got her at an auction, I don't know if he would have known her heritage, but she's most likely an American breed, probably a Quarter Horse or Kiger  
> Mercury (Curie): dun filly. Mazhivik's surprise foal.  
> Skywalker: chestnut American Warmblood gelding. Jim probably does some hunter work with him in addition to trail riding, but he is only 5 years old, so he is still a Babie and doesn't compete.  
> Cassini: black American Quarter Horse with a bald face (either an extremely large white blaze or a completely white face, common in Quarter Horse-type breeds) and blue eyes. Jim's barrel horse.  
> Domino: black and white Overo Paint Horse stallion. Overo is a classification of markings on a Paint or pinto horse, where the white markings do not pass over the back and the legs are usually a solid color. He is Jim's general "ranch" horse, but he does some racing with him as well.  
> Jamison: red roan Mustang gelding. Jim got him from the mustang round ups they have out west which are used to help control the wild horse populations. As of now (2020), the American Mustang is severely over populated, meaning that they are causing environmental degradation on their ranges, and many horses die of starvation from the lack of resources. He is Jim's other general ranch horse and Cassini's best friend.  
> Leo (not in the fic but he's there!): blood bay Hanoverian gelding. A Hanoverian is a German warmblood breed which is often seen in top-level English riding. He's Jim's English competition horse, but Jim doesn't always show him himself. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm a horse girl if you couldn't tell, so I'm projecting onto Jim. Yeehaw.


End file.
